(This was my very first Amazon review, written in 2003).
I have been a Jane Eyre fan since high school and have seen most of the adaptations. This one is my favorite. Why? Most importantly, this is the only one with a "plain" Jane, something that is absolutely fundamental. Joan Fontaine and Suzanna York are both gorgeous, Samantha Morton is very pretty and Zelah Clark is cute. When the book was published in 1847, creating a plain heroine was unheard of, but Charlotte Bronte felt strongly about her heroine's looks and the book became a phenomenal best-seller. Despite plain-Jane's best-seller status, most 20th/21st-century film adaptations still can't handle the idea of an unattractive heroine. This film was an exception.
Secondly, the age gap between Rochester and Jane in this film is just as it should be: 20 years. Most of the other Jane/Rochester's (excepting Morton/Hinds) look approximately the same age, while William Hurt and Charlotte Gainsbourg don't even look like they belong together -- exactly the point of the story.
Thirdly, this film features a few scenes and lines taken directly from the novel that I haven't seen in any other adaptations. For instance, Jane realizes Rochester is in the garden (just before he declares his love) because she smells cigar smoke. To have William Hurt puffing on a cigar at this point in the film is an authentic touch. There are many other such tidbits in this film that I haven't had the pleasure of encountering since I read the book.
Of course, given the time limit of this movie, there is some unavoidable tinkering with the plot line. If you want more of the actual text and plot, watch the Timothy Dalton version, but try to keep William Hurt in mind while you watch it. His good looks are toned down and he manages to be the most compelling Rochester I have yet to see on film. Timothy Dalton is tolerable in his portrayal but too thin, handsome, and too high strung; his acting is sometimes difficult to watch. Hurt's portrayal is also far superior to the one actor with the closest physical resemblance to Rochester: Orson Welles, whose performance is a string of absurd screaming fits. Watching Cirian Hinds' portrayal is like getting too near a snake pit or a steaming pot of boiling oil; he's way too tortured and it's not a pleasant sight. Yes, Rochester was a tortured man, but he usually kept it in check and below the surface. The nuances of this complicated character are lost on most of the actors who have attempted to play him, except, in my opinion, William Hurt, who brings to his performance all the irony and subtlety the others are sorely lacking.
Although the superiority of this film can be measured by the plainness of its leading characters, I must conclude by saying that it is cinematically lush and includes a gorgeous soundtrack.
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